By the standards I set when I was 25, I’m a failure today.
But if I had done all the grandiose things I planned back then — and gained immense wealth and power as a result — I would have been a complete failure by the more mature standards I set for myself today.
It’s a paradox. I had to lose everything I once valued — and I had to wander in the desert for a metaphorical 40 years — to finally arrive at a place where I feel qualified to even start living a life worth living.
I have struggled through years of what felt like defeat and exile. I felt as though I had blown my chance to do the things that matter to me. But something has changed.
I’ve realized that I am entering into my best period yet — intellectually, creatively and emotionally. I am finally where I wish I could have been at 25 or 30. I had to take a long but necessary detour — and I’ve finally arrived at the start of my life.

Looking for the Boston scapegoat? You’ll never find perfect security
Emotional wounds in me quickly spot those with similar wounds
Silly controversy over Cadillac ad reminds us we want different things
People who confront harsh reality are ones who survive bad times
Do you believe you’re free? Slavery by any other name is still slavery
If abortion is just simple choice, why is killing babies for gender bad?
The Alien Observer: I’m not going to change — and you’re not, either